Notes: You may
or not read Lesson Two or Three. It's not
a should. This takes place around a year after the
previous one shot. So here, another short one shot. Beware of a
little OOCs. Happy Birthday Yoh! Advance Happy Mother's Day to all
the moms in the world!

Heart
Lessons: PaintingaPpLecHeRrY

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Since receiving his
previous birthday present, he became persistent, kept on asking his
fiancée to show her pieces. Now, a year had passed, and she's
now his precious wife. However, some things never change.

A young blonde walked
through the corridors of the Asakura household, supporting and
caressing her womb in one hand, and a bucket full of different things
in another. She will be delivering a new life in a month, yet here
she is, still making her way up in the attic, beside the piano room,
and do her thing.

For the 358 days since
she gave him her masterpiece as his birthday present, he often brings
up the topic. Always asking questions like 'How did you learn?
When?', 'Anybody taught you?' etc. And because she's under
his surveillance almost 24/7, she can only do her thing whenever he's
off training.

Right this moment was
another of those moments. She gracefully worked with paints as time
passed with flying colors; literally. Just when she was halfway done
with her piece did she notice her someone behind the shoji. She
wasn't really surprised at that, rather, she was expecting. It's
been like this for a couple of days already: she would head for the
exit just in time to see a figure rushing done the stairs. Although,
today's visit was quite early as usual.

"Are you just going
to stand there all day?"

He emerged from the
shadows, "But you won't let me watch you or show me your works or
teach me how or answer my questions or…" his whining continued.
Nevertheless, she cut it short. "Then what are you doing here,
standing there while I paint quietly, not shooing you away?"

He grinned. Yoh didn't
take a seat nor move. He just stood there, rooted on the same spot,
amusedly watching her work with glee. It was like magic when she
works with those brushes.

After moments of a dose
of her magic, he carefully moved around without her noticing and took
a palette and some paint. He took a tiny paintbrush from the bucket
and stood behind her in a grin, whispering softly, "Koi-chan,"

She shivered
involuntarily and replied with a 'what?' To say the least, she
wasn't irritated.

He rested his head on
her shoulder. "Can I?" he smiled, "Pleeeaaaassse,"

She made no effort to
respond to his plea; instead, she took her present work off the stand
and put it aside, replacing the previous paper with a new one.

She simply stepped
aside, giving him access to the workplace. Grinning as he dipped the
paintbrush a little in the paint, the paintbrush was about to touch
the white paper when he halted.

No words were needed as
he felt her hand guide his, majestically creating a work of art with
just a few strokes. When she felt he didn't need any supervision
already, she let him work on his own and create his own piece.
Standing by his side, she watched.

He flicked the
paintbrush as a few trickles of paint flew in a certain direction.
Craning his head to that particular angle, he saw tiny spots of red
on her cheeks and her eyes directed on him.

He laughed humorlessly.
Or should I say, nervously.

He shut his eyes.
Honestly, he was expecting an outburst right there and then. But he
received none.

Because his eyes were
shut, he didn't know that she already had a brush in hand, dipped
in a shade of brown. "Yoh, open your eyes."

And the moment he
obeyed the command did he felt the wet brush stain a circle around
his eyes.

"You look like a
dog," she added a black spot on his nose, "and a stupid one at
that,"

Anna stifled a laugh.
He really does look like a dog. Nonetheless, her fun suddenly
faltered when she saw the mischievous smile on his face.

"Really?" He said,
a brush in hand.

Without any given
moment to evade, she found herself having a red circle in each cheek.
"Well, you look like a doll," he smiled, "a pretty cute
blushing doll,"

Of course, it simply
didn't end there. They didn't stop until they made each other a
living portrait.

Days passed since the
incident and the room was temporarily forgotten. Well, she thought it
was.

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She woke up on a sunny
Friday morning. Originally, she was planning to do a special
breakfast that day since she didn't have anything prepared for his
day. Although how can she do that if the person she's about to
present that special breakfast woke up earlier than she did?

Seeing there's no
other way in her present state, she stood to sit on their futon to
adjust on the daylight. But it wasn't sunlight she saw.

"I was never good on
doing realistic things, so I made abstract."

She smiled, she was
supposed to be the one surprising him, not the other way around.
Either way, "It's wonderful. Happy Birthday,"

He let go of the
painting and went to envelope his wife in a warm embrace. His hand
rested on her swollen tummy, "You've given the most magnificent
gift I could ever have," his lips met hers, "thank you,"